Chapter 33: The Fanatics
"Ah..." Elina let out a short, tired breath.
If she’d known that burst of light would drop her here, she would’ve tackled Nuri to the dirt before he unleashed it. Because standing ten yards ahead of her were at least a dozen wild boars, monsters the size of small oxen, eyes gleaming red in the gray light.
She checked her surroundings. Edge of the village. Not a soul in sight, no magic hum on the wind.
Just her.
Alright. Now what?
She’d spent the last few days trailing behind the siblings like an afterthought. Just following along.
Time to actually earn my keep.
The lead boar dug its hooves into the dirt and charged. Elina didn't flinch. She’d cut down beasts like this since she was old enough to hold steel; she knew their rhythm by heart.
A heavy, double-edged sword materialized in her grip. Her fingers locked around the hilt, and as she brought the blade down, the steel caught the pale afternoon light in a clean arc.
The first boar lowered its head, aiming to impale her with its tusks. Elina shifted her weight, slid her lead foot forward, and drove the edge down.
Crack.
The beast dropped instantly, sliding into the mud.
The rest swarmed. She didn't pause to admire the kill. One strike, pivot, drive the point through a throat, sweep the blade back up. No wasted movement. Her sword became a rhythm of silver flashes, every swing ending in the wet thud of falling weight.
By the time the last beast hit the grass... an hour had bled away.
Elina sank onto a nearby rock, her shoulders heaving as she wiped sweat and grime off her forehead. She took three slow breaths until the burning in her chest settled. A faint smile touched her mouth. Her form wasn't rusty after all.
Now she just needed to find Lucien and the kids.
She looked past the tree line. Far off in the distance, the pointed roof of a spire peeked above the canopy. A gut feeling pulled at her, that was where they were.
She stood up, then paused.
"There," she said, looking toward a thick patch of pines. "You can come out now."
The woods stayed dead quiet for a long second. Then the branches parted, and Dally stepped out into the clearing.
He hadn't been there a minute ago. She hadn't seen him, she’d felt the displace of air, the faint drag of his mana. Knights didn't survive on luck alone. Though... if she’d been paying closer attention back in the plaza, they wouldn't be scattered across the country right now.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"You caught that," Dally muttered, squinting at her. "Didn't expect you to."
"Don't underestimate people," Elina said mildly. She rested her sword against her shoulder, using her sleeve to wipe blood off the steel. "So... what’s your friend up to?"
"None of your business."
"No need to get defensive," she said, her smile fading. "We're all tied up in this now."
Dally went silent. He stared at her, his expression unreadable, before dropping a question completely out of left field.
"What do you think happens... if a god descends into this world?"
Elina blinked. A god? Descending here?
Dally saw the shift in her eyes and let out a dry, breathy chuckle. "No, I'm serious. What do you think would actually happen?"
Elina kept her mouth shut. It wasn't a thought she’d ever entertained. But the look in his eyes wasn't a joke, it was hollow, bright, and completely unhinged.
"Why are you trying to summon a god?" she asked.
The question came out cold. She needed to know.
Dally’s mouth twisted into a slow, brilliant smile, the kind of look someone gets when they talk about a childhood memory or a prize they'd die for.
"Now that's the real question, isn't it?" he whispered. "Why do they rule over us? What makes them so different? What makes them... gods?"
His focus drifted past her, staring into empty air like he was seeing something tearing through the sky.
A cold sweat broke out along Elina's neck.
If we succeed... we'll finally have the answer.
No. This wasn't just one guy running a scheme.
This whole crew... they were fanatics.
They weren't looking for power or land. They were burning down the world just to satisfy a question. Even the Heretic had more logic than this.
Elina tightened her grip on the hilt. She took a quiet breath, grounding her feet. "And how are you planning on pulling that off?"
Dally laughed, a sharp, jagged sound. "Like I'd tell you. I'm crazy, not stupid."
He knew he sounded unhinged, and he didn't care. He treated the whole thing like a joke.
God of Unity...Elina thought, closing her eyes for a split second. Give me a hand.
The blessing hit her bloodstream like ice water. Her pulse slowed; her vision narrowed into absolute clarity.
Dally flicked his wrists, and a dozen razor-sharp glass shards of magic shot through the air. Elina ducked, weaving through the field with millimetric precision, but the sheer volume of his cast kept her pinned.
Dally abandoned the long-range spells entirely. He lunged, closing the distance, swinging wildly with hands wrapped in compressed air. He fought like an animal, no form, just momentum, trying to tear her apart.
Elina stood her ground, parrying a swipe and driving a quick thrust toward his ribcage. The blade hit a dense cushion of air and skidded off target. She shifted her footwork, trying to slice through his guard, but his relentless pressure cut off every angle she opened.
Her blessing was ticking down. His mana reservoir didn't seem to have a bottom.
Damn it...
Her heel caught on a loose stone. Her balance slipped.
Dally seized the second. He tackled her hard, slamming them both into the dirt. He pinned her shoulders down, his weight trapping her arms against the mud.
A nasty, triumphant grin spread across his face. He leaned down, staring at her tightly pressed lips.
"Got you, pretty lady."
Elina looked up at him. Her face didn't show fear, just a calm, almost pitying smile.
"So?" She tilted her head. "Look behind you."
Dally’s grin faltered.
Behind his head, hovering two feet in the air, her massive broadsword swung into position, its point aimed straight at the back of his spine.
The blood drained from his face.
He opened his mouth to curse
BOOM!
A thunderous detonation rocked the earth, shaking the trees and echoing from the direction of the distant spire.
Dally’s head snapped toward the smoke rising over the horizon, his grip on her shoulders slipping entirely.
"Rowen!" he yelled.